


Creed

by Lia_Lia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Begin Again, Coffee Shop, Eating Disorders, M/M, Muggle London, Post War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 21:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19281769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lia_Lia/pseuds/Lia_Lia
Summary: Control. Draco had learned from his mistakes, from his past. He had to learn it the hard way, but the lesson was deeply engraved now. If you don’t control the chaos, then the chaos controls you. Yet, if everything was ruled down as a music sheet, there wasn’t any place left for things to get off key, and if they had to, the show would go on all the same. But when the doorbell chimed and Harry Potter walked in the coffee where Draco works, his part takes a new rhythm. /tags to be edited/





	Creed

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will talk about eating disorders, if this trigger you please don't read it. It's not just a mention of ED, it's one of the main subject.  
> English isn't my native language, please don't focus on the mistakes ! ^^  
> Hoping you'll enjoy your reading !

Control. Draco had learned from his mistakes, from his past. He had to learn it the hard way, but the lesson was deeply engraved now. If you don’t control the chaos, then the chaos controls you. Yet, if everything was ruled down as a music sheet, there wasn’t any place left for things to get off key, and if they had to, the show would go on all the same. So when the peacocks started screaming in the first lights of morning, Draco rose from his bed, letting the warm sheets fall down as he switched off his alarm clock. His shirt and trousers were waiting for him in the back of the chair and the water was already in the kettle, ready to be boiled. Every step he had to make was already planned, already made a thousand times and exempted him of any kind of thinking. On his way to the bathroom he turned on the light and the kettle and one his way out, put the tea to infuse. Two minutes and the drink would be ready, two minutes and he would be fully dry and clothed. He checked his bag on last time and poured the tea into his mug-to-go.  
There were 3571 step from his studio to the coffee shop he worked in; he had counted them all a few times in the beginning. Better to focus on his feet than the ragging world spinning around him. Muggle London wasn’t an easy city to begin again in. Everything here was new, the people, buses and cars; and everything was too much. The buildings were too high, the traffic too loud and the mass compressed; but it was easier to feel invisible. His platinum blond hair didn’t shine as bright in the muggle capital as they did in every wizarding places. Here he was only an anonymous in the crowd, and Merlin did he needed that. But a year and a half later, Draco felt better in the big city. He didn’t count his steps anymore but still, those 3571 steps burned at least 170 cals and in the twenty minutes they took, he could drink his tea and watch the city wake up around him. Surely, it lacked trees and fields but in the sunny days he’d make a detour and cross by the park. Some say he could even be found humming in the fresh air.  
Then he was finally there. The coffee shop was tiny and all of his friends told him he was wasting his time serving drinks and cakes but the walls were covered in bookshelves and the little bells chimed him welcome as he walked through the doors. Maybe he was, maybe there were equivalent in the muggle world to potion maker, Quidditch Seeker or whatever, but he was happy he found it. Most of the customers were regulars and from the beginning to the end of the day Draco knew what was going to happen. A chime and he’d smile a Welcome to the Ivy Coffee, what can we do for you? and three quarter of the time he’d end up with a coffee cup and a cake in his tray. Sometimes a customer would ask for a book and they’d end up talking about muggle authors Draco only heard of recently, and sometimes he’d end up at his local bookshop after the close. The Ivy Coffee was a safe place in a city that never stopped but unlike the bookshop, it smelled like coffee and fresh pastries all day. Entering the bookshop was like taking a gulp of air after diving too deep, like getting on his broom after days locked in the Manor. Hidden behind odd round windows, it p was divided in numerous rooms, shelves up to the ceiling and ladders in every corner. There, it smells like dust, old pages and inks, and not a sound could disrupt any reading. Sometimes, it even felt like Hogwarts. So between coffees and teas, apple pies and muffins, Draco busied his mind thinking about books, about what was still to learn, so close to him and still so far from everything he’s ever been taught. He was currently learning muggle poetry, trying to memorise them as he cleaned the mugs and washed the floor, reciting them as he swam during his days off.  
  
But that day wasn’t going to be filled with light conversation about Wilde or Shakespeare. The air would reek cakes and chocolate and the customers would be too loud and rude. That day definitely was one of those for which the music sheets had been made so cautiously. Indeed, and for the first time in a while, the bells chimed cheerfully for an unexpected young wizard.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
